Just Your Average Princess by Kristina Springer Page A

I wait. But he doesn’t say anything. I widen my eyes at him. Hello? It’s fake meat . Say something.
    â€œLooks good,” Dad says.

 
    8
    It’s six in the morning and I’m ready for school. I set my heavy backpack by the front door, grab an apple and a banana from the kitchen, and head outside to feed the bunnies before I leave. I eat my banana in three bites, before I’m even at the end of the gravel driveway, and start in on my apple.
    I crack open the heavy wooden gate and let myself into the bunny pen. We have a good fifty-plus bunnies of all colors hopping around. It’s hard to ever be in a bad mood when you’re around these supercuties. My favorites are the gray ones with black spots. We have four of them and they are totally adorable. They are the only ones I’ve named—Lily, Delilah, Anastasia, and Gwendolyn. I know, I know, it’s not Flopsy and Mopsy but these gals seem to fit their names.
    â€œHello, sweeties! Who’s hungry?” I pull down a big bucket of rabbit food from a shelf and give it a shake. But none of the bunnies are paying attention to me. Huh. I shake the food harder. “C’mon, guys!” I call, but the bunnies still pay no attention to me. You know, I’m going to develop quite the complex if even the animals start ignoring me. I look at their water system and see that it’s full. That’s weird. Somebody has already been in here and fed my bunnies.
    I walk to the edge of the bunny hill area and look around the Patch. Who else is out here at this hour?
    Suddenly it becomes clear. I spot Mom and Milan walking together in the distance, each carrying one side of a bale of hay, laughing at something. I squat on a nearby step stool and wrap my arms around my knees. I’m hoping Milan didn’t see me. That would make her day, I’m sure.
    And why is that anyway? I rack my brain, trying to remember if I did something to annoy Milan and make her hate me so much. But no, I’ve been nothing but nice to her since the second she arrived. I’d like me if I were her. But for some reason she seems determined to make me look bad, not only in front of my parents but also in front of my friends at the Patch. I don’t get it.
    I look down and Gwendolyn is nibbling at my right shoe like she’s hungry. I reach into the rabbit feed, pull out a handful of pellets, and offer them to Gwendolyn. She eats from my hand, watching me. It’s pity eating. Like when you’re at your grandma’s house and you force down a piece of lemon poppy-seed cake not because you actually want to, but because it would make Grandma happy.
    And it works. I smile at Gwendolyn and rub her back. “Thanks, sweetie.”
    After the much-needed quiet time with the bunnies, I grab my backpack from the house and jump in my car, purposely not saying goodbye to anyone before I head to school. I’m not sure this was even noticed. No one is paying attention to me these days. I turn on the car radio and crank up the music, trying to drown out my thoughts. Of course, this has never exactly worked for me. I must be a loud thinker. On the one hand, it’ll be nice to not be in Milan’s presence for a few hours. On the other hand, if I’m away from the Patch, how can I keep an eye on her? What if she takes advantage of my absence to suck up to my parents even more? Or worse, what if she spends the whole day hitting on Danny?
    Ugh. It’s totally not fair that I have to be in school, worrying about what Milan’s up to when all she has to do is homeschool for two hours a day on her pink laptop in her room. She probably won’t even do that. She’ll bat her eyelashes at some Patch worker and have him or her writing essays for her in a snap.
    â€œMorning, Jamie,” Dilly says, slipping into the desk next to me in math class.
    â€œHi, Dilly,” I reply. “Did your hair again, huh?”
    Dilly smiles and tucks a